Canada's Geese
by Velgamidragon
Summary: Oneshot. No country ever seems to remember Canada and he's used to it, but now his own wildlife seems to be forgetting him too because his geese aren't coming back home after migrating! Well, he's gonna get to the bottom of this even if it means another confrontation with America... Oh, the agony...


**Author's Note: I recently got back from vacation and I visited Canada, hence why I want to write some Hetalia with Canada in it (though I don't think this was anywhere close to my best work)! XD I even got to go to Québec and had a _lovely_ conversation with a waiter there _in French!_ 8DD**

**Disclaimer: I'm merely playing in the Hetalia universe and the idea for this is mine with some inspiration from something my soon-to-be-stepfather said about the Canadian Geese in the U.S.**

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Canada's Geese

It's hard being a country... but it's even harder being a country that everyone (except your own citizens) keeps forgetting. And as of the past couple years, Canada noticed something odd and he began to wonder if maybe his obscurity could be infectious to his own population and wildlife. Why? Because he was losing his geese! His geese were supposed to stay at America's for the winter (because his own house got too cold to support their food) and then come back north, to him, for the summer. Except that they weren't coming back! Did they forget he existed like all the other countries! Not even Britain remembered him and his English provinces always paid proper tribute to his royalty! Heck, he even honored one of his pseudo-parent's former bosses, Queen Elizabeth II, on his currency! But back to his goose problem; did they forget he existed or were they unable to come back home?

That thought instantly irritated the large northern nation and he picked up his phone to call his stupid brother.

"**Yo, Canada, what's up?"** America's voice resounded loudly over the phone.

"Hey, U.S., it's been ages since we've hung out-"

"**Wow, 'U.S.',"** America interrupted with a soft sigh, **"That really takes me back to colonial times. You know Canada, I think you're the only one that still calls me 'U.S.' every now and then besides my own citizens. Not even Britain calls me that anymore."**

Canada paused, shocked by his brother's manner and attitude. In recent years, especially, America had become more stupid and meddlesome than Canada had thought it possible to be. In fact, Canada had (secretly) decided that his initials, U.S.A., _really_ stood for **U**ltra-**S**tupid **A**sshole. He even called him U.S. because he was annoyed that he was called 'America' when 'America' could technically apply to anyone who lived on an 'American' continent.

"**So dude, why're you calling again? Seriously, even though we're brothers an all, internationally calling is still expensive!"**

Any sympathy Canada might have felt for him was crushed by those words and he remembered his reason for calling, "Eh? Can't even spare a phone call to your own brother? It's been ages since we've last seen each other and I just wanted you to come visit."

"**Um... can we hold off the rendez-vous...?"** Canada wince at the badly-pronounced French and wished once again that somebody had taught Britain _proper_ French instead of just picking up bits and pieces after the Scandinavian-minded French of Normandy invaded and conquered the British Isles. **"Now's really now a good time..."** America trailed off, hoping Canada would understand.

But Canada was _not_ going to understand! America always forgot about these rendez-vous things and more often than not, he had to go find America in his great big house if he wanted to meet him. Well, he wasn't going to do it this time!

"But U.S., I need you!" Canada pleaded while doing his best to sound assertive, "I have a major crisis on my hands and only you can stop it! Please help me, Brother!"

The effect was instantaneous. America was all concern and heroism that had inflated his ego beyond belief. **"Don't worry, Canada! I'll be over there was soon as I blow off all those meetings! Everything will be okay, just let your brother handle it!"** and without even waiting to see if Canada had anything else to say, he hung up.

"Well... at least his priorities with family-in-trouble are glued on straight," Canada said with a heavy sigh as he put down the phone. That didn't make his brother any less of an idiot though.

()()()()()()()()

It was too soon when America finally arrived in a blaze of glory. "United States of America at your service, bro!" America saluted loudly and then went on to praise how easy it was to get through Canadian customs and how nice the people were, 'not like back home where they're all stern and scary and stuff!'

Canada had smiled grimly at this, knowing full well it was one of the reasons he had wanted America to _visit_ him; so that he could thoroughly experience (again) the torture of his own paranoid customs.

"So anyway!" America started up again after he was finished praising/complaining, "What's this major crisis you're experiencing? !"

"Alright. America... give me back my geese!" Canada shouted... which still came out about as loud as a whisper...

America stared blankly, cocked his head to one side and gave an eloquent, "Huh...?"

You could all, but see that the gears had stopped turning in his brain. As inappropriate as the timing was, Canada couldn't help but quirk his mouth in a grin, a desperate attempt to not laugh. In a couple shops in Montréal, within his French province of Québec, Canada had found a t-shirt that "officially"-defined 'eh' in the various ways that he and his citizens used it (it was also defined as a general expression that Canadians used). But the best part of the shirt was below the definition where it said 'Why do Canadians say "eh"?' and then right below that in all-caps was another sentence that said 'Because it's better than saying "Huh"!' It was such a dig at America that he had been unable to resist buying it! In fact, he was wearing it!... Inside out... underneath his blue sweater... Yeah, America couldn't see it at all...

"My geese fly south for the winter to your house, but then they never complete their migration back north to my house for the summer!" Canada bellowed, again, in a whisper-like fashion, "It's all I can do to keep the ones I've got to come back and I don' think I'd be able to stop myself from tearing my hair out, so _please_ tell me you haven't been keeping my geese at your house just to tease me!"

"Huh? Dude, I don't want Canadian Geese all over my property! Actually, can't seem to get rid of them! Some of my bird researchers in the field have told me that your geese and their overstayed welcomes are actually causing a lot of damage to my native plant and animal species," America informed hi with an uncharacteristic seriousness in his blue eyes.

At this newest bit of information, Canada wailed in despair, "First countries forget me and now my own geese! It's only a matter of time before my own _people_ forget their Canadian as well!"

"Ah, don't worry Canada, I'll help you round up your geese," America said reassuringly, "How hard can it be?"

America had evidently forgotten just how difficult it was to get close to either a nesting mother or a mother with already-hatched goslings and there were many such families in his house. Together, the two brother nations caught a total of eight dozen geese, which was not even close to _half_ the population in America's house. In other words, there was no way that the two of them would ever be able to collect all of Canada's geese by themselves. The geese would have to decided to head back to him on their own accord.

"Sorry Canada," America said, breathless and sweaty with his exertions, "Couldn't get all your flock... back to your house..."

"It's okay, America," Canada said with a resigned sigh, "It'd be impossible to get them all anyway."

"Still sucks though. I've already got a rapidly-growing zebra mussel population out-competing my native mussels in the Great Lakes and now I've got your geese to deal with!"

Canada had never envied America before and he certainly didn't now, either!

_I'll say it right now. I'm not good with Canada. He was hard and I think I might have accidentally made him a little OOC. America was definitely the easier of the two._

_My stepfather mentioned that many Canadian geese weren't **actually** making the migration back north and it's causing a lot of problems for the native ecosystems. Also, that shirt that I described in this fic: it actually exists! And I saw it in a shop in Montréal! **Why** I didn't go ahead and buy the thing, I have no idea, because it was freaking hilarious!_


End file.
